


Destruction

by smallvictories



Series: Something unexpected [3]
Category: Better Call Saul (TV), Breaking Bad
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Frottage, Grief/Mourning, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Intimacy, M/M, Praise Kink, Prostate Massage, based on bcs s04e03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:42:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25811521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallvictories/pseuds/smallvictories
Summary: "You did something shitty, but you didn't kill anybody." Mike reaches out and cups the back of Jimmy's head.Something icy inside Jimmy’s chest cracks open, and he weeps softly against Mike’s neck.
Relationships: Mike Ehrmantraut/Jimmy McGill | Saul Goodman
Series: Something unexpected [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1817191
Comments: 10
Kudos: 41





	Destruction

"I'm sorry about your brother." Mike says softly.

Jimmy is certain he sees pity in Mike’s eyes, and it infuriates him.

"Yeah, thanks." Jimmy pinches his eyes shut and swallows the lump in his throat. "So what, you're really not gonna do this?"

"Sorry." Mike replies sincerely. He’s opens his mouth to say something else when Fran interrupts.

"Eggs, easy." Fran says brightly, setting the plate down in front of Mike.

"Thanks, Fran."

Fran smiles at Mike and puts her hands on her hips. "Can I getcha anything else?"

"No, I'm good." He replies tiredly, picking up the fork from beside his plate.

"Sure I can't get you anything?" She asks Jimmy.

"No, I'm not hungry, thanks." Jimmy replies with a little wave of his hand.

Fran hustles away and leaves them alone again.

"Alright. I, um…" Jimmy fidgets with the figurine in the centre of the table and watches Mike shake pepper on his eggs. "If you don't want easy money, that's your business."

Jimmy pauses before continuing.

"I just thought I'd give you first crack at a golden opportunity." Jimmy's voice strains with frustration.

Mike doesn't reply. He just sits there holding his fork and knife, wearing the same pitying expression. This was a complete waste of time as far as Jimmy's concerned.

"All right, see you around." He pulls himself out of the booth and starts to leave.

Mike drops his knife on the table with a clatter and grabs the sleeve of Jimmy's jacket as he passes.

_"Sit down."_ Mike warns under his breath, noticing the other patrons are looking over at them.

Jimmy wrenches his sleeve out of Mike's grip, but obediently slides back into the booth with a sigh.

"Listen, if you're not gonna help me, I'm gonna find someone who can."

"Would it kill you to eat breakfast with me first?" Mike asks, taking a bite of his toast.

Jimmy looks down at Mike's plate and watches yolk ooze slowly from one of the eggs, like pus from an infected wound. His stomach turns and he breaks out in a sweat. The booth feels unbearably small and he fights the urge to sprint out of the diner.

"I'm really not hungry, honest." Jimmy assures him, wiping his forehead with his jacket sleeve.

"Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong." Jimmy huffs and tries to rub the tightness out of his chest.

"You're lying." Mike sets down his fork and knife and wipes his mouth with a napkin.

“What are you, the amazing human polygraph?” Jimmy snaps.

Jimmy doesn't even want to think about what's bothering him. He's nowhere near ready for that. He slides out of the booth and stands up.

"Jimmy–"

"Lay off me, I gotta hit the head."

Jimmy steps in the washroom and takes a quick look under the stalls. He's alone. He steps in front of the sink and turns the water on cold, full blast, and splashes it onto his face.

He bends over and leans his elbows on either side of the sink, hanging his head into the basin. Chest heaving, he tries to gauge whether he's going to throw up. His hair falls forward into the rush of water from the tap and gets soaked.

_Oh, boo hoo. You feel bad? Maybe you shouldn't have killed Chuck._

Jimmy makes a mournful sound in the back of his throat and digs his fingernails into his palms. The sound of water hitting the porcelain and blood rushing in his ears combines into a roar that grows steadily louder.

His shoulders spasm as he begins to sob quietly into the sink, his tears joining the water swirling down the drain. The door swings open and Jimmy straightens up suddenly, splaying his soaked hair across his forehead. Mike steps into the washroom and takes one look at Jimmy before locking the door behind him.

He hangs his head and hugs himself tightly. He doesn't want to see the pity in Mike's eyes, he feels pathetic enough as it is. He chooses instead to watch the steady drip of water from his hair hit the tile floor. He hears Mike turn off the tap and pull the crank on the paper towel dispenser. Mike's shoes appear, stepping into the puddle forming at Jimmy's feet.

"Look at me."

Jimmy lifts his eyes from the floor. Mike's eyebrows knit together as he wipes the water from Jimmy's face, crunching the paper towel around his wet hair to wring it out. Jimmy stands stiffly while tears continue to roll down his cheeks. Mike dabs a few away before realizing it's a futile effort. He balls up the paper towel and throws it in the trash.

He takes a step toward Jimmy and reaches up to brush his damp hair back off his forehead. Jimmy closes his eyes and exhales, leaning gently into Mike's touch.

His eyes snap open when the door handle rattles, and Mike quickly pulls his hand away.

"Wash your hands and meet me in the parking lot." Mike orders under his breath. He turns the lock and opens the door, leaving without a backward glance.

A teenager enters and heads to a urinal, eyeing Jimmy suspiciously. Jimmy clears his throat and wipes his face, realizing how strange he looks. He turns back to the sink and mechanically washes his hands, drying them hastily and rushing from the bathroom.

As he walks toward the exit, he notices Fran is already clearing their table and his merry wanderer figurine is gone. She smiles when she notices him, her expression slipping to a frown briefly as she takes in his red eyes and wet face.

“Have a good day!" She says automatically.

Mike must have already paid for everything.

"Thanks, you too." Jimmy rasps and continues out of the diner.

Mike leans against the driver's side door of Jimmy's Esteem, his expression neutral. Jimmy comes to a stop beside the trunk and sighs.

"You're in the way." Jimmy says with a scowl.

"You sure you're good to drive right now?" Mike questions, raising an eyebrow at him.

"I'm good!" Jimmy assures him, voice rising in irritation. "Let me go."

Mike shakes his head. "I'm not buying it."

Mike walks by and grabs Jimmy’s wrist as he passes, pulling him over to the next row of cars.

Jimmy resists for only a moment before letting his arm turn to rubber. Mike releases his wrist, but Jimmy continues to follow him to the old Chrysler, too tired to fight. Mike unlocks the door and sits down inside, reaching over to pop the lock on the front passenger door. Jimmy sits down and slams the door shut.

"What about my car?" He asks shakily.

"I told Fran you're sick and I’m driving you home. She promised they won't tow it."

Mike turns the key in the ignition and backs out, turning out of the lot in the wrong direction.

"I thought you were driving me home." Jimmy murmurs, wiping the remaining tears off his face with his sleeve.

"We're not done yet." Mike replies gruffly as he turns the wheel and guides the car into his neighbourhood.

Jimmy scoffs and crosses his arms, turning away from Mike to look out the window. Mike ignores him, keeping his eyes on the road. After a few minutes, they pull to the curb in front of Mike's bungalow. Jimmy sits there, stewing on the situation he's gotten himself in. Why can't Mike leave well enough alone?

He’s jolted back to reality by the door opening beside him. He never even noticed that Mike got out of the car in the first place.

"C'mon, let's go." Mike stands to the side to give Jimmy space.

He pulls himself out of the car and Mike shuts the door behind him and motions for him to go ahead.

Jimmy walks up to the front door, acutely aware of Mike's presence behind him. When he reaches the door, he cluelessly blocks it, but Mike reaches around his waist and turns the key in the lock, pushing the door open. He feels Mike's palm in the small of his back push him gently forward over the threshold.

Mike reaches out with both hands toward a puzzled Jimmy.

"Gimme your jacket." Mike grunts.

"Huh? Oh." Jimmy shrugs his jacket off and hands it to Mike, who hangs it up on the row of hooks by the door before adding his own windbreaker.

Mike slips the merry wanderer from the pocket of his windbreaker and heads to the living room. He places it on the coffee table and sits down on the couch.

"C'mon" Mike beckons him.

Jimmy trudges over to the couch and drops into the cushions. He can feel Mike's eyes boring into the side of his head. He pointedly ignores him and picks up the remote from the coffee table, switching on the tv. Mike makes a small _hmpf_ sound and throws his arm around Jimmy's shoulders, pulling him closer.

It feels good to be close to Mike, even just sitting here while commercials play on tv. He can almost forget for a moment the constant pain beating at his insides.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

Jimmy shakes his head and keeps his eyes on the tv screen. He's too tired to talk about anything. Mike doesn't press it but squeezes his shoulder a bit tighter.

The commercials seem to go on forever. Jimmy's eyelids droop and he relaxes against Mike. Eventually, the sounds from the tv begin to blend into nonsense, fading in and out.

Just as he’s about to fall asleep, he’s startled by Mike rising from the couch and leaving the room. Jimmy sits there bleary-eyed, wondering what's going on. Just as he's thinking about getting up to follow, Mike returns with a pillow and a folded patchwork quilt.

Mike sits back down and lays the quilt over the arm of the couch, placing the pillow in his lap. Jimmy slips off his shoes and socks, and pulls his feet up. He lays down on his side, bringing up his knees so he can fit in the small space, and settles his head into the pillow. He exhales roughly as Mike spreads the quilt over him.

Mike leans back into the cushions and lazily runs his hand through Jimmy's hair. He moans quietly and nuzzles into the softness of the pillow. He drifts away to the sound of the tv and the firm touch of Mike's fingers against his scalp.

When he awakens sometime later, the tv is off and the only sounds are the steady tick of the clock from the hall and Mike’s slow, deep breathing from above him. He carefully pulls his arm out from the quilt and checks his watch. He figures he’s slept for about 2 hours. He turns around cautiously, trying to avoid jostling Mike’s arm draped over his chest.

He lays on his back and looks up at Mike. His face is unusually relaxed when he’s asleep, he even looks younger. Mike’s head is tipped forward, chin resting against his chest. It looks uncomfortable as hell. Jimmy turns himself over once more to face Mike’s belly and gently shifts the pillow out of the way onto the floor.

Jimmy sighs and thinks how nice it would be to forget about all the shitty things he’s done, just for a little while. He quickly pushes that thought aside. He can’t risk what will bubble up in him if he starts running through his laundry list of sins right now. He turns his head and nuzzles his face into Mike’s groin. Quicker than he would have liked, Mike is stirring above him and grabs his jaw, tilting his face upward.

“What d’you think you’re doing?” Mike asks sleepily.

Jimmy tries to pull away but finds Mike won’t let him, and that only makes him want it more.

“Please.” Jimmy begs awkwardly against the crush of Mike’s hand. “Let me.”

Mike frowns down at him.

“What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing is _going on_ with me.” Jimmy growls furiously.

He reaches down and palms Mike through his pants.

“Are you gonna let me suck you off or not?” Jimmy sneers as his stomach does a little flip.

Mike doesn’t respond and runs his tongue over his bottom lip, loosening his grip just enough for Jimmy to turn his head. It’s all he needs. He stretches his tongue from the corner of his mouth, awkwardly licking along Mike’s fingertips. Mike's grip loosens just a little more, enough to let Jimmy pull his index finger in.

Mike leans back into the couch and watches him as he noisily sucks and licks. When Mike adds two more fingers and presses them to the back of Jimmy’s tongue, he gags a little and hums happily. Mike slips his free hand under Jimmy’s collar, tweaking and pinching his nipples.

He sighs and presses his chest up into Mike’s fingers and is gratified when he gets an extra firm pinch. Mike’s look of concern has long since been replaced by something hungry, and it makes Jimmy’s face heat up every time they make eye contact.

Mike withdraws his fingers and Jimmy makes a little frustrated sound and grabs the hem of Mike’s shirt. Mike grabs Jimmy under the arms and pulls him up, guiding him onto his lap. He straddles Mike and smashes his mouth into his, desperately licking his way inside and rocking his hips.

Mike pushes Jimmy away with a firm hand to his chest.

“You want help with that?” Mike’s eyes dart down to the bulge in Jimmy’s pants, a little smirk on his lips.

Jimmy nods and grips Mike’s shoulders.

“Then get on with it.”

Jimmy drops his hands to his fly, fumbling it open. He slips his cock out and starts jerking himself unsteadily.

“I didn’t say you could do that.” Mike warns and grabs Jimmy’s wrist and squeezes until he finally lets go.

“We’re gonna talk about this, Jimmy.” Mike warns.

Jimmy pants and looks down at Mike with fear.

“Now or later, but it’s happening.”

Jimmy catches his breath. “Later then.”

“What are you looking for here?”

Leave it to Mike to get him hard and desperate before asking him for a fucking interview.

“What the fuck do you think?” Jimmy sneers, yanking his wrist out of Mike’s grip.

“Are you _trying_ to piss me off?” Mike’s upper lip twitches.

_“Is it working?”_ Jimmy taunts, disobediently sliding his fingers down the length of his cock.

Mike eyes drop to watch Jimmy stroke himself, and he exhales forcefully and bites his lip. 

“Fuck you.”

“That’s the idea.” Jimmy says obnoxiously.

“I’ll do anything if it’ll make you shut up.” Mike grunts, pulling Jimmy’s pants down over his thighs.

Jimmy smiles and grabs hold of his pants and boxers, sliding them off the rest of the way over his ankles. He begins lifting his shirt when Mike grabs his wrist again.

“This is your last warning.” Mike cautions him. “The next time you do something without being told, I’m gonna wipe that stupid fucking grin off your face.”

"That a promise?" Jimmy asks, his breath hitching as his stomach twists in knots.

Mike scans Jimmy's face, like he's checking for injuries.

"Are you sure you're –"

"Jesus!" Jimmy grits out in frustration. "I don't want to talk to you."

Mike's face falls. For a moment, Jimmy thinks he may have hurt the old man's feelings. Without warning, Mike grabs the back of his head and pulls him down, crashing their mouths together. He pushes his tongue inside and sucks on Jimmy’s bottom lip. Jimmy groans and rolls his hips, grinding his erection into Mike’s stomach. As suddenly as he kissed him, Mike is now pulling away, pushing one hand against Jimmy’s chest to force him to back off.

“This doesn’t seem like a healthy way to deal with –”

“Are you gonna make me beg?” Jimmy rasps, “because I will.”

“I’m not gonna _make_ you do anything!” Mike growls, “but I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You'd be helping me. Do this for me, please.” He pleads, gripping the front of Mike’s shirt.

Mike exhales and looks up at him.

“We're not doing this here.” Mike shoves him off and gets up from the couch.

Mike turns away and walks toward his bedroom without a second glance. Jimmy meekly grabs his jeans and boxers from the floor and follows. When Jimmy enters, Mike is standing by the bed with his arms crossed. Jimmy stands in the doorway and his face flushes when he looks around and thinks about what they did last time they were here together. He can feel himself perking up again.

“It doesn’t take much with you, does it?” Mike smirks.

This only makes Jimmy’s face redder. He breathes heavily and hangs his head.

“C’mere." Mike motions.

Mike takes his clothes from him and tosses them over the old chair in the corner. Jimmy swallows hard and waits to be told what to do.

"Lay down, get comfortable."

Jimmy freezes and looks at the bed and back to Mike, before pinching his eyes shut.

“Goddamnit!” He grits out. “I don’t _want_ to get comfortable! I don’t deserve it! I want you to hurt me, alright? Why’s that so hard for you to understand?”

Mike sets his jaw and studies Jimmy’s face.

He wonders if Mike can see that he’s trembling. His frustration and anger boils over, and he growls.

“Please, please. Just do this for me. God, just– _anything._ Choke me, slap me, knock me off the walls!” Jimmy is yelling now, red in the face, sweat beading on his forehead.

“This isn’t really about sex, is it?” Mike asks, raising his eyebrows.

“Oh my god, why do you care so much?” Jimmy shouts at the top of his lungs. He steps up to Mike and bumps their chests together.

“Why does it matter what I’m going through? All I’m asking is for you to make me feel something, jesus, is that so much to ask?” Jimmy reaches down and grabs at Mike’s belt buckle, trying work it open.

Mike knocks his hand away, but he makes another determined grab.

“Cut it out!” Mike grabs him by the arms and pushes him down onto the bed.

He struggles until Mike climbs on top and drops down, forcing the air from his lungs and knocking him back to reality. Jimmy begins to cry, overwhelmed with shame.

“Oh god, oh god.” Jimmy sobs, turning his head to the side, trying in vain to hide his face. “I’m sorry. I’m so –”

Mike shushes Jimmy and releases his arms, cupping his jaw and forcing him to look up.

"You’re okay.” Mike murmurs into his ear.

He covers his face and tries to stop himself but it's too late. He cries for what feels like ages in the quiet room, Mike holding him down like he might otherwise fly away.

"I did something really bad." Jimmy blurts out after he's finally caught his breath.

Mike squeezes him tight, remaining silent. Jimmy is grateful for the silence, but now he wants to confess. He hasn't gone to church in years and he’s not going to start again now, so this is as good as he'll get. He wipes his face and clears his throat.

"I'm the reason my brother died."

Mike pushes himself up on his elbow and looks down at him.

"What?"

"I fucked up his insurance, and his partner forced him out of the firm." Jimmy explains with a sniff.

Mike thinks on this for a second.

“He killed himself because of it." Jimmy elaborates, his voice cracking.

"Okay," Mike begins carefully, "so you just said it. He killed _himself."_

"But I – I," Jimmy stammers and pinches his eyes shut.

"You did something shitty, but you didn't _kill_ anybody." Mike reaches out and cups the back of Jimmy's head.

Something icy inside Jimmy’s chest cracks open, and he weeps softly against Mike’s neck.

“It’s not gonna hurt this bad forever.” Mike says comfortingly.

He exhales with a whimper. This idea gives him some relief, so he tries to force himself to believe it.

“And y’know Jimmy, I can make you feel something without hurting you.” Mike whispers.

Mike kisses the side of his neck and Jimmy groans softly under his breath. Mike kneels and pushes off him, reaching down and guiding him up to the head of the bed.

He sighs with relief as his head sinks into the pillow. Mike carefully climbs back on top and gently kisses his forehead.

"I know you're having a bad time." Mike leans down and puts his lips to Jimmy's ear.

Jimmy squirms, hoping that Mike isn't going to try to make him talk again.

"But I can make you feel good, if you let me." Mike whispers and licks the shell of Jimmy's ear.

He sighs as tears well up in his eyes. He clears his throat and blinks hard, willing them away. Something about the way Mike is talking to him so softly and sweetly makes his heart race, and for once it's not in panic.

"I'll take care of you, Jimmy"

This is too much. He whines and covers his face as the voice in his head assures him that he deserves none of what's happening here. Mike gently pulls Jimmy's hand from his face, and holds it down at his side, interlacing their fingers.

Jimmy closes his eyes as Mike kisses the corner of his mouth and then presses his tongue gently against his lips, as though seeking permission. Jimmy grants it and moans as Mike sucks on his tongue. Mike brings up his other hand and gently runs it through his hair, sending a shiver down his spine.

Mike draws back and breaks their kiss.

"You good?"

"Yeah." Jimmy rasps.

"Want me to keep going?" Mike asks, reaching down to finger the hem of Jimmy's shirt.

"Yeah."

Mike tugs Jimmy's shirt up over his head and tosses it to the floor. Next, he pulls off his own shirt and grasps Jimmy's wrist, gently directing him to his belt buckle. Jimmy smiles and works open Mike's belt and zipper, reaching in and stroking him a couple times.

Mike gives a breathy sigh and leans down, running his tongue over Jimmy's nipples and pressing kisses over his chest. God, it feels so good, but when Jimmy moans it comes out more like a sob.

Jimmy cries out when Mike's hand wraps around his cock and squeezes lightly. He's so keyed up now, every touch thrills him. Mike shifts down between Jimmy's legs and props himself up on his elbows.

"Hand me a pillow, sweetheart." Mike grunts.

Jimmy's heart jumps into his throat and he swallows nervously, eyes darting to the side and a blush spreading over his face. He grabs a pillow and passes it down.

"You liked that, didn't you?" Mike asks with an amused twitch of his lips as he presses a kiss to Jimmy's inner thigh.

He's overwhelmed. It never occurred to him he would want Mike to be _nice_. He covers his face with his hands and moans against his palms, feeling raw and exposed.

"I'm gonna take that as a yes." Mike chuckles and begins to stroke Jimmy gently, moving frustratingly slow.

"Oh god, please." Jimmy pushes his hips up into Mike's grip, uncovering his face and fisting his hands in the bedsheets.

Mike stops his movement with a firm hand, and then gently encourages him to lift his hips. When he does, Mike slides the pillow underneath him. Mike adjusts the pillow until he's satisfied with the angle and leans closer. He licks down Jimmy’s thigh and grins when he squirms in response.

“Get the lube, darlin’. Top drawer.”

Jimmy feels his face heating up and can’t hold back the little sound he makes in the back of his throat. What the fuck is going on? Is Mike trying to embarrass him? Is this a kind of strange punishment? He reaches over and pulls the lube from the drawer and passes it down between his legs. Mike smirks at him.

“Jesus, Jimmy. Relax, it’s not like we’ve never done this before.” Mike takes the lube and flicks the cap open.

Jimmy realizes he’s completely tensed up and self-consciously tries to loosen his muscles. He wants to tell Mike, no, they haven’t done _this_ before. This is different. He could feel it even if he couldn’t put it into words. He jumps when Mike gently prods his entrance with his index finger.

“Is this okay?” Mike asks in a low voice, swirling his finger around the rim.

Jimmy chokes and nods his head. His face has gone redder than ever and he can feel his pulse in his cheeks. Mike edges his finger slowly inside, rubbing gently around his walls as he goes deeper. He feels oddly aware of everything, self-conscious of all his sounds and movements. He throws his arm over his eyes and lets out a soft little groan.

“You’re awfully quiet. That’s a shame.” Mike rasps as he slowly adds another finger. “You’ve got a nice voice.”

_“Oh god.”_ Jimmy chokes out.

_Nice voice?_ What the hell is Mike playing at? He can't help himself. With every sweet thing Mike says, he only gets more aroused and desperate.

Mike slides his fingers just a little deeper and curls them, brushing up against his prostate and he can’t keep quiet anymore.

“Please, please. _Aaaah Mike.”_ He cries out and ruts against Mike’s fingers.

He drops his arm from his face and looks down between his legs. Mike’s gaze is turned downward on his task, but he looks up when he feels eyes on him. His lip twitches into a grin and he lifts his head up to lick along the underside of Jimmy’s cock. Jimmy lets out a broken moan and reaches down to brush his fingers along Mike’s jawline.

“You've got a nice cock, too.”

Jimmy pulls his hand away and curses, pinching his eyes shut.

“Why are you doing this to me?” He gasps, trying to keep from bucking up into Mike’s face.

“I wanted to show you how good it feels to get a little kindness.” Mike reaches up and rests his hands on Jimmy’s hips. “Seems like it’s working.”

His stomach drops. _Kindness?_ No, he doesn’t deserve this. Not after what he’s done.

"Hey." Mike speaks a little louder to grab Jimmy's attention. "Focus."

Mike fucks his fingers into Jimmy, slow and steady.

"Aahh fuck, fuck, fuck…" Jimmy begins to ramble, his self-hatred mercifully shoved aside for the moment.

When Mike pushes in deeper and just stays there, keeping him perfectly full, Jimmy hardly knows what to do with himself anymore.

"Oh god, please, please." Jimmy begs and squirms, desperately thrusting down on Mike's fingers. "I need you to-- _ahh,_ please fuck me!"

"Patience." Mike mumbles, not taking his eyes off his task.

Jimmy wants to cry as precum dribbles onto his belly. This is torture, even if he won't have bruises to show for it later.

Mike withdraws his fingers and Jimmy groans at the loss, rutting against nothing. Mike pulls himself up and kisses Jimmy, pressing his hips into him. Jimmy whines softly when he feels hardness pushing against his stretched out hole through the fabric of Mike’s pants.

Jimmy can’t stop himself from grinding against Mike, crying out softly when Mike returns his movements. Mike pulls down his pants and kicks them off to the foot of the bed. He reaches up and grabs the lube from the nightstand, squirting some into his palm and reaching down between them to slick up their cocks. He leans into Jimmy and begins slowly thrusting, rubbing their erections together. Jimmy brings his hand to his mouth and bites into his knuckles, groaning loudly and moving his hips against Mike’s in gentle circles.

Mike growls and nuzzles into his neck, licking and sucking. Jimmy knows it'll leave marks he can't cover with his clothes, but he doesn't care. They reach a fever pitch, humping frantically against each other, Mike groaning open-mouthed against Jimmy's neck while Jimmy cries out, tipping his chin upward. Jimmy can feel his cock throbbing and twitching, he can't hold out much longer at this pace.

Mike must feel it, because he pushes himself off Jimmy and kneels.

"You ready for me?" Mike pants, reaching down between Jimmy's legs and swirling his thumb in gentle circles around his rim.

Jimmy is almost delirious now, but he knows he heard Mike say "ready". He tries to respond, but his tongue refuses to cooperate, and a long, broken moan comes out instead. He nods vigorously to get his point across.

Mike retrieves the lube and slicks himself up with trembling hands. He grunts and jerks himself, the head of his cock bumping against Jimmy's hole with each movement of his hand. Jimmy can't stand it, he jerks his hips and whines urgently.

"God, please fuck me, fuck me. Stick it in me, make me your fucktoy— I need it, please I — " Jimmy rambles brokenly.

Mike grabs Jimmy's legs to spread him, and pushes forward slowly with a groan, exhaling shakily and closing his eyes as he presses deeper. Jimmy makes a little _aah_ sound with every exhale, panting hard as Mike fills him up.

When Mike is completely inside, Jimmy makes a happy little sound and tries to snap his hips, but Mike isn't moving. Mike leans down and laces his fingers into Jimmy's, pinning them up above his head. He's about to protest when Mike covers his mouth with his own and kisses the words away. Jimmy bears down on Mike’s cock and clenches, humming with gratification as the pressure on his walls increases.

Mike breaks their kiss with a loud groan and buries his face in the crook of Jimmy's neck. Jimmy builds a rhythm, squeezing Mike’s hands each time he tightens his muscles, and Mike gasps open-mouthed against his skin with each movement.

" _Jesus,"_ Mike chokes out, "You're so fucking tight. I can't—" His words are cut-off by his own cry as Jimmy clamps down on him.

Mike whines and holds on tight to Jimmy's hands, letting out a series of high-pitched sounds as Jimmy begins to vary his rhythm unpredictability, trying to force Mike over the edge and make him move.

“God, you feel so —"

Mike tries to keep dirty talking him, but he's incoherent, crying out against Jimmy's neck and trembling uncontrollably with pleasure. Jimmy hums with satisfaction, picking up his pace, relentlessly clenching down on Mike’s cock while warmth pools in his belly.

Mike cries out and lets go of Jimmy's hands, trying to pull back out of him.

"Please, _ah_ you're gonna make me — " Mike pleading is cut off by his own low moan. Sweat runs down his forehead and drips from his brow.

Jimmy relents with a smug grin and lets Mike pull out of him. Mike kneels and wipes his forehead, closing his eyes and exhaling with a shudder.

"Gonna be able to keep up?" Jimmy teases with a pleased smirk.

Mike chokes out a laugh but doesn't take the bait. He lines himself up again and pushes inside, faster this time, drawing a gasp from Jimmy. Mike braces his hands behind Jimmy's knees and pushes forward.

When Mike starts to move, he immediately taps Jimmy's prostate. Jimmy mewls and ruts down on Mike's cock.

"Oh fuck, right there, _harder."_ Jimmy gasps, pinching his eyes shut and letting his jaw hang open.

Mike leans in and folds Jimmy at the waist, bracing himself with one hand splayed against the headboard. For half a second, Jimmy thinks how sore his back is going to be later, before Mike drives the thought from his mind by fucking into him so hard he sees stars.

Jimmy's chest heaves and he gets dizzy as more precum spills out of him and smears over his stomach. Mike is hitting his prostate on every thrust, and Jimmy chews his lip and whimpers shakily, trying to hold on a little longer.

Above him, Mike huffs and groans, trying to keep up his pace.

"Look at me, honey." Mike grits out.

Jimmy obediently snaps his eyes open and looks up at Mike with an urgent whine. God, why does it feel so _good_ when Mike calls him that? Jimmy reaches down and wraps his hands around the back of his thighs. Mike spreads his legs a little and fucks him harder.

Jimmy holds on desperately as his body gets driven down into the bed, Mike's cock bumping against that spot in him perfectly every time. It feels so fucking perfect, he hardly notices when his head starts thumping against the headboard. Their moans and cries mingle and fill the room. Jimmy keeps his eyes locked on Mike’s, and it seems to egg him on. He moans louder and plows into him harder the longer they keep eye contact.

Without warning, Mike pinches his eyes shut and stills deep inside Jimmy. Jimmy continues jerking his hips and makes a frustrated little groan.

"What are y — "

"Slow down, baby. It'll be worth it, I promise." Mike smirks with his eyes closed and tries to catch his breath.

Jimmy curses and swallows hard, his heart beating furiously in his ears. His cock throbs as a little more precum leaks out onto his belly. He wants to throw a tantrum, but he also wants to be good for Mike. The latter wins out.

After a couple minutes, Mike begins to move and Jimmy frantically starts snapping his hips, grinding his cock against Mike’s stomach. The coil inside him is pulled achingly tight and makes him crave release. Mike is unraveling above him, gasping and cursing as he thrusts into him. Jimmy looks up at him pleadingly and cranes his neck upward. Mike leans forward and presses deeper, bringing his hands up to cup Jimmy’s face and smash their mouths together. He whimpers into Mike’s mouth as his fuse quickly burns down to nothing. Mike pulls away and braces both his hands on the headboard, smiling down at him.

"Good boy, Jimmy."

Jimmy comes with a shout, trembling uncontrollably as semen hits him forcefully between the eyes. Mike's jaw drops as he watches it drip down the bridge of Jimmy's nose. He makes a choked gasp and closes his eyes, jerking his hips weakly twice more before he falls over the edge with a shuddering moan, pulsing deep inside Jimmy.

They take a couple minutes to catch their breath. Jimmy is so fucked out; he can't even summon the energy to feel embarrassed about the mess all over his face. Mike gently pulls out and drops down on his back next to Jimmy with a groan, folding his arm behind his head. He reaches out for the tissue on the nightstand and passes the box to Jimmy, the corners of his mouth twitching up into a grin.

Jimmy accepts it, trying to keep a straight face, but cracks a smile as he cleans himself up. Mike breaks the silence with a snicker and then Jimmy starts laughing too. Once Jimmy stops laughing and catches his breath, he sets the box and used tissues back on the nightstand.

"I thought my brain was gonna melt out my ears." Jimmy mumbles with a sigh.

Mike hums happily and turns onto his side to face Jimmy, pushing the blankets down.

"C'mere." He says tiredly, reaching out to Jimmy.

Mike pulls the blankets up over them and lays on his back, pulling Jimmy into the crook of his arm, Jimmy sighs and slings his arm over Mike’s chest.

“So, uh, was it good for you too?” Jimmy asks, trying to keep a straight face.

Mike gives him side-eye and huffs softly. “Yeah.”

Mike reaches over and affectionately scratches Jimmy’s scalp. Jimmy hums and closes his eyes, pressing his head into Mike’s fingers. He starts to drift off, but he keeps forcing himself back awake, not sure if Mike is really going to want him to hang around much longer.

“Just go to sleep, Jimmy.” Mike closes his eyes and sighs, hugging him tighter.

Jimmy stops resisting and quickly drifts off.

When he awakens, he’s disoriented but quickly remembers where he is. Sunlight is still streaming through the cracks around the blinds. Mike is on his stomach with his arm slung over Jimmy’s chest, fast asleep. Jimmy shifts, grimacing with discomfort as he peels his thighs apart. He carefully slides out from under Mike’s arm and heads to the bathroom. Hopefully Mike doesn’t find it too presumptuous of him, but he really needs a shower.

Jimmy turns on the shower and looks at himself in the mirror. There are dark grey, almost black circles beneath his eyes, and his skin is pallid. Jimmy sighs. He can’t really expect any different when he stays awake for days on end. It’s no wonder Mike is so worried about him. He looks like a reanimated corpse.

He checks the temperature and then steps into the bathtub under the spray, pulling the curtain closed. He scrubs his face and carefully wets his hair, running his fingers through it gently. When he looks down, several strands of wet hair are clinging to his fingers. He mourns them silently and rinses them off. His stress has really made his hair loss situation take a turn for the worse.

He takes down the showerhead and points it between his legs, trying to rinse away the mess Mike made of him, when suddenly the door opens. Jimmy yelps and hastily puts the showerhead back up. He hears the toilet lid open.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Jimmy grits out.

“There’s only one toilet and nature calls.” Mike replies, unbothered. “I’m not pissing in my yard.”

Jimmy exhales and rolls his eyes as the toilet flushes. Suddenly the curtain slides open and Mike steps inside. Jimmy makes an embarrassing squeak as he turns his back to the spray and claps his hands over his crotch

“Are you serious?” Mike deadpans. “Were we not literally fucking less than 2 hours ago?”

“Hey, showers are sacred. It’s my time to think.” Jimmy retorts, looking down his nose at Mike, his pride slipping through his fingers like sand.

“Yeah, all right. You keep thinking.” Mike grunts. “Pass me the shampoo.”

Jimmy turns and grabs the bottle, handing it over to Mike, noticing how close he is and how small the tub feels now. Mike flicks open the cap and squeezes some shampoo into his hand and sets the bottle down on the edge of the tub. Mike reaches up for Jimmy’s hair and he raises up his hands defensively.

“Whoa, whoa. You gotta be very gentle okay?”

The corners of Mike’s eyes crease in amusement, and he chuckles softly.

“I’m sure you’ve forgotten what it’s even like to have hair by now but _yeah_.” Jimmy rasps, looking down at his feet. “I’m balding.”

Mike ignores the jab and begins massaging the shampoo into Jimmy’s scalp.

“Life goes on, you’ll be okay.”

“But I feel — I feel old and, um, unattractive.” Jimmy admits sheepishly and leans into Mike’s fingers.

“Old?” Mike huffs. “Huh. Well if you’re old, then I oughta be dead and buried by now."

Jimmy groans. “No, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sor--”

Mike shushes him and reaches up to direct the spray over his head and rinse away the suds.

"You're not unattractive either." Mike's eyes wander over him.

Jimmy shivers despite the warmth of the water when he feels a little tug in his gut. Mike steps closer and reaches down past Jimmy to grab a bottle of body wash from the edge of the tub, squirting a generous amount into his palm and setting it back down.

"Turn around."

Jimmy obeys, ducking his head under the stream of water. It thunders in his ears and it's oddly relaxing. He feels Mike’s hands running firmly over the skin of his back and working over a knot between his shoulder blades. He groans and leans his forehead against the cold tile wall.

“You’re really stiff back here.” Mike observes, gripping Jimmy’s shoulders and rubbing his fingers into the base of his neck.

Jimmy can just hear him over the spray of water in his ears.

“And who’s fault is that?” Jimmy sputters against the flow of water streaming down his face.

Mike wraps his arms around Jimmy and scrubs his chest and stomach, before dropping lower to wash his crotch. Jimmy jerks his hips once reactively, though he’s too exhausted to do anything about it. Mike continues to scrub Jimmy down, reaching down between his legs and washing the cleft of his ass. Jimmy clears his throat self-consciously but realizes he doesn’t actually want Mike to stop. He feels cared for, and it’s an unfamiliar but welcome feeling. Mike rinses him off and claps a hand on his shoulder, steering him out of the tub.

“You go ahead, I’ll be out soon.” Mike assures him.

Jimmy nods and slides back the curtain, stepping out onto the bathmat. After he dries off, he wraps the towel around his waist and heads back to the bedroom. He walks over to the chair with his clothes slung over it and gets dressed. He goes to the mirror above Mike’s dresser and tries to gently comb his hair into place with his fingers, eventually settling on good enough. He lays down on the bed and yawns loudly.

Mike enters the room a short time later and gets dressed, slipping into bed next to Jimmy. He lays on his side and rests his hand on Jimmy’s stomach, closing his eyes.

The silence sets him on edge, and he wishes Mike would say something.

“So maybe I should get outta here and let you get back to… uh…”

Mike opens his eyes sleepily. “You don’t have to.”

Jimmy allows himself a small grin and tentatively lays his hand over Mike’s, staring up at the ceiling.

Mike clears his throat. “I wouldn’t mind seeing you more often.”

Jimmy’s eyes widen and he turns over to face Mike.

“Really?” He blurts out.

“You know I care about you, right?” Mike murmurs, reaching down and grabbing his hand.

“Yeah, I know.” Jimmy replies, trying to keep his voice steady. He squeezes Mike’s hand back in response and tears well up in his eyes. He clears his throat and blinks them back.

“I just need to know you’re gonna be okay.” Mike places his other hand against Jimmy’s chest.

“You said it doesn’t hurt this bad forever. Right?”

“It gets easier.” Mike reassures him.

Mike pulls Jimmy in closer and cups the back of his head, pressing him to his chest. Jimmy’s brain finally quiets down, and he drifts away feeling safe and warm.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading 🥰 Kudos and comments appreciated.
> 
> This is the final part of the _Something unexpected_ series.
> 
> Check out [my profile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmallVictories/profile).


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